“Patience is bitter, but its fruit is sweet.” — Jean-Jacques Rousseau Riven slowly opened his eyes.
For a moment, he simply stared at the ceiling.
The familiar smell of sweat, dirt, and damp stone filled his nostrils.
His body ached, his stomach growled, and the cold floor beneath him did little to make his morning any more pleasant.
‘Another day.’ He sighed and slowly sat up.
Around him, the other slaves were still sleeping.
A few laid awake with a blank expression.
Riven rubbed his eyes.
He had barely gotten any sleep the previous night.
Not because of the uncomfortable conditions, although those certainly hadn’t helped, but because of something far more important.
The slave contract.
He had lied awake theorizing ways to test his theory.
He also remembered the man who had collapsed in agony after attempting to resist, the price of failure.
Riven frowned.
‘If I’m still bound by that thing, I’m going to have a serious problem.’ He had already considered the possibility that the contract had broken when he took over the boy’s body.
However, it was only a theory.
And theories weren’t particularly useful if they got him killed.
He needed to test it.
Carefully.
Riven glanced toward the entrance of the room.
There was no sign of the guards yet.
He lowered his head and examined his hands.
They were still terribly thin.
His fingers looked almost skeletal, and the small cuts from yesterday’s work hadn’t healed.
He clenched his fists.
‘I really need to get out of this hell.’ But escaping wasn’t going to be easy.
Even if the contract no longer affected him, he was still surrounded by armed guards.
He had no money, no food, and practically no strength.
He barely knew anything about this new world.
Running away without a plan would be little more than suicide.
For now, he needed information.
And the first thing he needed to know was whether he could disobey his master without suffering the consequences.
A loud metallic bang suddenly echoed throughout the room.
“GET UP!” Riven flinched.
The familiar guard stood in the doorway, holding his metal bucket.
“ALL OF YOU!
MOVE HURRY UP!” The slaves immediately began scrambling to their feet.
Riven followed suit.
He didn’t want to attract any unnecessary attention this early in the morning.
The guard walked through the room, kicking anyone who was too slow to get up.
Riven quickly joined the others.
He had no intention of testing the contract just yet.
Not until he had a better idea of what he was dealing with.
The morning proceeded much like the previous one.
The slaves were herded outside, where they received their tools before being ordered toward the eastern mines.
The air was cold, and the morning sun had barely risen above the mountains.
Riven shivered as he walked.
His thin clothes offered practically no protection against the chilly air.
He glanced around.
The other slaves were walking in a long line, their expressions as miserable as ever.
Some were already coughing.
Others limped as they made their way toward the mines.
Nobody seemed particularly interested in talking.
Riven, however, had something else on his mind.
‘All right.
Let’s start with something simple.’ He deliberately slowed his pace.
At first, it was barely noticeable.
He simply took slightly shorter steps, he shuffled along allowing the distance between himself and the other slaves to increase.
He waited.
Nothing happened.
He continued walking.
A few more seconds passed.
Still nothing.
Riven frowned slightly.
‘Interesting.’ He slowed down even further.
By now, he was several steps behind the nearest slave.
He glanced around, half expecting to see one of the guards approaching him.
But nobody seemed to have noticed.
More importantly, he hadn’t experienced any pain.
No sudden headache.
No burning sensation.
No collapse.
Nothing.
He continued walking slowly.
‘Maybe the contract only activates when I directly disobey an order.’ That would make sense.
At least, he hoped it did.
He remembered the previous slave who had collapsed.
The man had deliberately refused to follow an order.
Perhaps that was the condition.
Or perhaps the contract simply wasn’t working anymore.
He couldn’t be certain.
“HEY!” Riven immediately looked up.
One of the guards had noticed him.
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING BACK THERE?” Riven stopped.
The guard approached, his expression growing increasingly irritated.
“DID I TELL YOU TO TAKE YOUR TIME?” “N-No, sir.” “Then MOVE!” Riven quickly lowered his head.
“Yes, sir.” He hurried to catch up with the others.
The guard watched him for a moment before turning away.
Riven quietly released a breath.
‘Well, that was close.’ Although he still didn’t know for sure if the contract was broken at least he was making progress.
‘I need to be careful while testing, even if the contract is broken if they see me disobey, they’ll know and it’ll be over for me.’ By the time they reached the mines, Riven’s legs were already beginning to ache.
He followed the other slaves inside, receiving his usual hammer and sack.
The overseer stood near the entrance, watching everyone as they entered.
“Listen up!” The workers gradually fell silent.
“Today’s quota is the same as yesterday’s.
I don’t care how tired you are.
I don’t care if your arms are falling off.
You’re here to work!” He pointed toward the tunnels.
“Anyone who doesn’t meet their quota will regret it!” Nobody responded.
The overseer nodded toward the guards.
“Get them moving!” The workers immediately dispersed.
Riven followed the familiar route toward his assigned tunnel.
He wasn’t particularly looking forward to another day of crawling through cramped passages.
His shoulders were still sore from yesterday, and his hands hadn’t fully recovered.
Nevertheless, he had little choice.
He crouched down and entered the tunnel.
The stone scraped against his knees as he crawled forward.
After a few minutes, he reached the small opening where he had spent most of the previous day.
He dropped his sack beside him and picked up his hammer.
Then he began working.
Clang!
Clang!
Clang!
The familiar sound echoed through the narrow passage.
The sound echoed in the tunnels pounding his ear with every swing.
Riven struck the rock repeatedly, breaking off small pieces of ore.
He collected them and placed them inside his sack.
Then he moved on to the next deposit.
It was tedious work.
Extremely tedious.
But at least it gave him time to think.
‘All right.
What should I try next?’ He couldn’t simply stop working.
That would be too obvious.
He needed another small test.
Something that wouldn’t immediately get him into serious trouble.
He continued working.
Eventually, he heard footsteps approaching from the main tunnel.
Riven glanced toward the entrance.
A guard appeared.
“YOU!” Riven ignored him.
At least, he pretended to.
He continued striking the rock with his hammer.
Clang!
Clang!
“HEY!
BRAT!” Riven kept working.
His heart began beating a little faster.
‘Come on.
Do something.’ He waited for the pain that followed disobeadiance.
Nothing.
The guard stepped closer.
“I’M TALKING TO YOU!” Riven continued working.
For a brief moment, he wondered whether he was making a terrible mistake.
Then— SMACK!
A sharp pain exploded across his cheek.
Riven stumbled sideways, dropping his hammer.
His head snapped to the side.
For several seconds, he simply stared at the ground.
‘What the hell?!’ His cheek burned.
He slowly raised a hand to his face.
The guard stood over him, glaring.
“ARE YOU DEAF” Riven stared at him.
The man grabbed the front of his ragged shirt choking him.
“WHEN SOMEONE SPEAKS TO YOU, YOU ANSWER!” Riven swallowed.
“Y-Yes, sir.” Riven struggled to say.
The guard shoved him backward.
“Then why didn’t you answer me?” Riven lowered his eyes.
“I…
I didn’t hear you.” The guard narrowed his eyes.
“Didn’t hear me?” Riven nodded.
“The hammer…
It was loud.” For a moment, the guard simply stared at him.
Then he scoffed.
“You’re lucky no one else can fit in the smaller tunnels brat.” He pointed toward the ore scattered across the ground.
“Pick that up and get back to work!” Riven immediately bent down.
“Yes, sir.” The guard watched him for another moment before turning around and walking away.
Riven remained crouched on the ground.
His cheek still hurt.
He could feel a faint throbbing beneath his skin.
‘Damn it.’ He picked up his hammer and returned to work.
His hands were trembling slightly.
Not from fear of the contract.
At least, not anymore.
Instead, he was excited.
He had deliberately ignored the guard to test the magic, and despite the slap he gained something from it.
He hadn’t felt any magical punishment.
Not even when he had deliberately ignored a direct order.
The only punishment had come from the guard himself.
Riven slowly resumed hammering.
‘So that’s how it is.’ He wasn’t remotely free.
Not yet.
But the contract didn’t seem to be controlling him.
That was a considerable advantage.
He just needed to make sure he didn’t let the guards discover what he was doing.
The rest of the morning passed without incident.
Riven kept his head down and focused on his work.
Whenever a guard passed by, he made sure to look busy.
He didn’t want another slap.
His cheek still hurt enough as it was.
Occasionally, he glanced toward the tunnel entrance.
He was beginning to understand something important.
The guards didn’t need magic to control the slaves.
They had weapons.
They had numbers.
And they had complete authority over everyone in the compound.
Even if the contract was broken, Riven was still a helpless child in a place filled with armed dangerous men.
He couldn’t simply refuse an order.
Doing so would only get him beaten.
Or worse.
‘I need to be careful’ He continued working.
By midday, his sack was nearly full.
His arms ached, and his stomach had begun growling again.
He stopped for a moment, leaning against the wall.
He closed his eyes.
‘Just a little longer.’ He wanted to rest.
He wanted to eat.
More than anything, he wanted to get out of this miserable place.
But he couldn’t afford to give up.
Not now.
He had already died once.
He wasn’t about to let himself die again because he was too impatient to make a proper plan.
Riven picked up his hammer.
And continued working.
By the time the guards finally ordered everyone out of the mines, Riven could barely stand.
His entire body ached.
His hands were covered in fresh cuts, and his knees were sore from crawling through the tunnels.
He dragged his sack toward the entrance.
A guard stood nearby, checking the workers’ ore.
When Riven reached him, the man took the sack and inspected its contents.
“Hmm.
Not bad.” Riven said nothing.
The guard tossed the sack aside.
“Get in line.” Riven obediently joined the others.
He was exhausted.
But he was also thinking.
He had deliberately slowed down that morning.
He had deliberately ignored a guard.
And he had suffered no magical punishment.
The conclusion seemed increasingly obvious.
‘The contract must really might be broken.’ Of course, there was still a possibility that he hadn’t tested the right conditions.
Perhaps the magic only reacted to certain kinds of disobedience.
Or perhaps it required a direct command from his actual master.
He couldn’t rule out either possibility.
There was still so much he didn’t Know.
But he had enough evidence to begin considering his next move.
He just needed to be patient.
The journey back to the slave quarters was miserable.
Riven’s legs trembled with every step.
His stomach growled loudly, and his cheek still throbbed in pain when he moved his head.
He kept his head down as he walked.
Nobody seemed particularly interested in him.
That suited him just fine.
When they finally reached the quarters, he collapsed onto the floor.
He didn’t even bother looking for an empty mattress.
He simply sat against the wall and closed his eyes.
For a while, he did nothing.
He was too exhausted to think.
Eventually, a guard entered carrying the familiar pot of soup.
“FOOD!” The slaves immediately began lining up.
Riven forced himself to his feet.
His stomach practically screamed at him.
When he finally received his bowl, he sat down in his usual corner.
The soup was just as terrible as yesterday’s.
Thin.
Watery.
And barely warm.
He ate every last drop.
Then he stared at the empty bowl.
‘I really need to find a way to get more food, I can feel myself wasting away’ He leaned back against the wall.
His body hurt.
His stomach was still empty.
And tomorrow, he’d have to do it all over again.
He sighed.
But at least he had learned something.
The contract might no longer be a problem.
That alone changed everything.
He didn’t have to worry about being struck down by magic every time he disobeyed an order.
However, he still needed to be careful.
The guards were more than capable of hurting him without the help of magic.
Riven glanced toward the doorway.
‘I need to find a way out of here.’ He didn’t know how long it would take.
He didn’t know how he would escape.
But for the first time, he felt as though he might actually have a chance.
He closed his eyes.
Tomorrow, he’d continue observing the guards.
He’d learn their routines, discover how closely they watched the slaves, and look for any opportunity he could use.
There was no point rushing.
After all, he had already survived two days.
He could survive a few more.
And when the opportunity finally came…
He intended to be ready.